Falling Leaves
by celtic7irish
Summary: After the war, Harry had lost all those that were precious to him.  Depressed, he turns a lethal curse upon himself.  Only Draco and Severus are keeping him alive.  Short story written for a contest. Sev x Harry x Draco  eventual
1. Chapter 1

He laughed, the sound light and carefree as he spun among the trees, finally collapsing into a pile of the leaves that he had just raked up moments before. He had never had the chance to do this when he was younger, living at the Dursleys. The leaves had to be raked up and put straight into a trash bag, so that they'd be picked up on the next trash day. He'd never been allowed to play in them, although occasionally Dudley would romp through the leaf piles, scattering Harry's hard work all over the yard, so that he had to rake them up again, or risk not getting any dinner.

"I'll never understand what's so interesting about getting all muddy tumbling among the leaves," Draco commented snidely, but his eyes were amused and gentle as he watched his friend romp around the yard, wading through giant piles of leaves. After Harry would finish with one pile, Draco would sigh and wave his wand, sending all of the leaves back into their pile. They had been asked to rake up the leaves, but nobody had ever said they couldn't use magic, so the yard had been cleaned up in no time.

Harry grinned at him. "Aw, come on, Draco!" he wheedled. "Just try it!" Draco snorted and shook his head, but followed Harry into the next leaf pile willingly enough. At nineteen, they were really too old to be playing in the leaves, but if it made Harry smile and laugh like this, then it was worth getting a little muddy for. He'd just make sure he got the first shower – and used up all the hot water.

Just as he reached the first pile, Harry spun around and grabbed his wrist, yanking him down onto with him, so that they both crashed into the leaves, sending them scattering outwards, some of them flipping into the air and fluttering back down the ground, rustling pleasantly in the wind. Above them, the trees whispered among each other, a dry crackling sound as the wind breathed through them, taking a few more leaves and dropping them to the ground below.

Harry laughed again, and Draco couldn't help it; he laughed, too. It had been a long time since he had heard the other boy truly laugh, and it was a welcome sound. Severus would be so pleased, Draco thought, his thoughts changing direction as he thought about his godfather. The Potions Master was working right now, trying desperately to find a cure for Harry's illness, and Draco had volunteered to keep an eye out for the young man who had become like a brother to him after the war.

Draco had never expected his life to turn out as well as it had, to be honest. The moment he had been dragged before the Dark Lord and forced to take the mark, he had lost everything. At least, that's what he had believed. But when Voldemort had been defeated, and the Death Eaters rounded up, both Severus and Harry had fought for him. He was young, and impressionable, and had not been able to go against his parents' wishes.

And so, the Wizengamot had granted him mercy, and put him on probation for a period of three years. Part of their requirements was that he live with a sponsor, someone who would keep an eye on him and make sure he was fully reformed before being allowed to live on his own. His sentence was for three years, but since Harry Potter was his sponsor, he didn't worry too much about it.

Harry had been traumatized after the war, but he had never taken his rage and helplessness and fear out on Draco. No, he had turned all of that hatred inwards, and had nearly succeeded in destroying himself. Only Draco's quick firecall to Severus, and the Potion Master's subsequent arrival, had saved Harry's life that day.

Even now, it was a precarious hold on life that Harry had. He was dosed with potions daily to keep him alive. Harry hadn't appreciated the effort at all, but he had slowly adjusted, so that they no longer had to bind him to a bed and force potions down his throat. They no longer had to feed him nutrient potions intravenously, as Harry had finally started eating on his own, though it was hardly enough to feed a bird.

Still, Harry's depression had slowly faded, and he had started to recover, his life beginning to take on new meaning, with Severus and Draco at his side. When, exactly, his grateful affection for Severus had turned into something more, Draco wasn't certain, but it had seemed to give Harry a new lease on life, a reason to go on, struggling against the damage that had been dealt to him.

Having lost everybody important to him during the war, and in the aftermath that followed, Harry had tried to follow his parents and friends into the afterlife. He had waited just long enough to see that both Severus and Draco were acquitted of most, if not all, of their charges, and then had tried to kill himself, turning all of his destructive magic inwards.

Draco had felt the surge of power, a sharp line of pain that had scoured his soul, and he had run to Harry's side, finding the boy broken and bleeding on the floor of his living room, blood pouring from his mouth as his organs ruptured. The magic that he had used had been dark and had almost been impossible to stop. Panicking, Draco had called the only other person he could think of that might be able to save the Hero of the Wizarding world.

When Severus had flooed into Harry's home in Godric's Hollow, he had taken one look at the boy and cursed long and fluently, even as he had knelt next to him, unconcerned with the blood that had soaked through his clothing as he had worked desperately to stabilize Harry, to bring him back from a curse that he had learned from Voldemort, a curse that, as far as anybody knew, had no cure.

He had managed to keep Harry alive, but it had cost him, cost them all. Draco and Severus had both tied their life force to Harry's, keeping him alive with their own life and magic. The bond could be severed, but only by the one who had cast it, so Harry had no say in the matter. That bond had been all that had kept him from trying to kill himself again in the days immediately following his first attempt. As badly as he wanted to die, he refused to take down to innocent people with him, and so there was hope.

Draco had felt the change in the bond they shared with Harry the night that his godfather and his now best friend had first consummated their relationship. Suddenly, though they were both still tied to Harry, things had changed. Severus had Harry's heart and soul. Draco kept his body alive, kept it moving, kept blood flowing through his veins. It seemed that neither of them had noticed the change yet, or realized the implications of the power shift, but Draco wasn't about to enlighten them. Not when Harry was finally starting to want to live more than he wanted to die.

A tingle of the wards, and Harry perked up, looking towards the house. Draco smiled and stood, brushing himself off. "Go on, Harry. I'll just finish up out here really quick, shall I?" he grinned, brandishing his wand. Harry looked at him uncertainly for a moment, biting his lip, and Draco sighed impatiently. "Look, you're the one who insisted on doing this the Muggle way. We did it, so there's nothing wrong with using a little magic now, right? It'll be done in no time. Besides," he added pointedly, "if you don't go now, Severus is going to be worried."

That was all the prompting that Harry needed, and he took off at a job towards the house, a "thank you" thrown over his shoulder. Alone at last, Draco allowed his shoulders to slump forward, the exhaustion weighing him down. He'd be more tired after tonight, though, he was sure. Severus had been gone for the last four nights, working nonstop on a thread of research that might or might not lead to a cure for Harry's condition.

Quickly, he piled up the remaining leaves, and then set them on fire, careful to set up a proper containment barrier around each individual pile. He watched the vibrant colors for a while, the fire dancing merrily among the dried leaves. Reds and yellows and oranges burned black, crinkling and crumbling to ash. The heat beat against Draco's face, and he reveled in the warmth, the flickering flames reflected in bright silver eyes.

When the last leaf was nothing but a smoldering mound of ash, Draco turned away and walked towards the house. He found himself suddenly ravenous, his stomach clenching painfully. His heart thundered in his chest, beating rapidly as it pumped blood through his body. He made his way to the kitchen on wobbly knees, and sat wearily at the table, laying his head on the sturdy wood and closing his eyes.

A small 'pop' and Dobby showed up. When the war had ended, Dobby had been distraught to know that Harry would not be staying at Hogwarts to teach, though he had been offered the Defense position – or any position he wanted, really. Harry, unable to leave the house elf behind him to suffer, had offered him a place in his own household, which Dobby had accepted eagerly.

"Master Draco is hurting," Dobby spoke quietly, his long ears drooping as he stared sadly up at the blond. He and Draco had come to an agreement months before, when Draco had apologized sincerely for the way that both he and his family had treated the house elf. Dobby had been angry and distrustful, but Harry's obvious trust in the blond had helped to bring him around. And now, he took care of Draco just as conscientiously as he did Harry and Severus.

Draco forced himself to sit up, his body dragging as the magic took its toll on him, his heartbeat still rapid, sweat dripping from his skin in small rivulets. "I'll be fine, Dobby. Just…I need something to eat," he sighed. Dobby nodded in understanding and snapped his fingers. The table was set with a huge spread, and Draco smiled; there was no way he'd be able to eat everything, but Dobby had made sure to prepare a lot of his favorites, as usual.

Grinning, Draco dug into the food with gusto, his body slowly settling as time wore on. He didn't know if Severus and Harry had noticed, but the majority of their meals were made with Draco's tastes in mind now. Although Dobby would always make sure to have some of Harry's favorites, and Severus' tastes ran somewhere in between the two younger wizards'.

Full, he settled back, closing his eyes and allowing his breathing and heartbeat to regulate themselves. Dobby popped in again to take away the dishes, watching Draco in concern for a moment before nodding to himself, satisfied that the blond aristocrat was okay now. He disappeared again, and Draco stretched, working the kinks out of his body as he stood, heading for his room. He'd read for a little while before trying to get some rest, aware that he'd probably be up for a good portion of the evening, trying to keep his body from shaking itself apart.

He passed Severus' room on the way to his own, and heard the murmur of voices. Harry and Severus still had separate rooms, but it was just for show. They spent more time in each other's rooms, together, than they did apart. Even when Severus was gone, Harry would often curl up in his room, napping. Only Draco could rouse him out of bed to go and do something productive, like raking the leaves or making some basic potions to refill their personal stores.

Hearing Harry's laughter again, Draco smiled as he headed down the hallway. He'd never admit it to anybody, and could barely admit it to himself, but seeing Harry happy had become the most important thing for Draco now. If he didn't know better, he'd think he was in love with the other boy. But Draco had always had a very clear view of himself, even when he was acting like an arrogant toerag in Hogwarts. Harry was like the brother he'd never had, and he was closer to being family than Draco's blood kin had ever been.

Stripping quickly down to his boxers, Draco flopped onto his bed, lying spread-eagled on his back as he stared up at the ceiling. A lazy wave of his wand had the book he was currently reading floating in his direction, stopping right above him. It flipped to the correct page, and Draco closed his eyes and listened as the research read itself out loud.

Severus hadn't been the only one researching Harry's affliction. Every minute that wasn't spent with Harry was used to research Dark curses. Draco had found some promising leads, but hadn't found an actual solution yet. So now, he was following up on those leads, hoping that perhaps between him and Severus, they'd discover a cure.

He drifted off like that, listening to the book rattle off curses and their effects, his mind piecing together random fragments, then discarding them as irrelevant or impractical. Fortunately, he had charmed the books to stop reading once he was asleep, so that they'd pick back up at the proper point when he was ready to start reading again. He'd get a little bit of sleep, and then would go back to his research in the morning, while Severus kept Harry occupied. They would find a cure, no matter what. With that last thought, Draco slept.


	2. Chapter 2

When he next awoke, it was almost dawn of the next morning, and Draco stretched languidly, feeling rather more rested than he had the day before. Or the past several days, he admitted ruefully. While Severus had been gone, he had immersed himself in his research, using the respite drive himself to exhaustion with studying. If he wasn't doing research, he was prodding Harry to quit sulking over Severus' temporary absence and make himself useful.

Sitting up, he glanced at the calendar on the wall and froze, his mind not understanding what his eyes were seeing. It wasn't dawn of the next day. It was dawn, three days later. Draco had slept for nearly sixty hours. He swallowed thickly; that his body had shut down for two and a half days was probably not a good sign.

Feet padded hurriedly down the hall, and Draco pulled the blankets up around him just in time, as both Harry and Severus rushed into his room, staring at him as he stared back with wide eyes and a pale face. "Hey," he greeted weakly. He just got two glares in response, and fought the urge to flinch. "Guess I was more tired than I thought," he offered, hoping that the two men would let it drop.

He should have known better, he thought irritably as they hurried to his side, Severus running several monitoring spells over him while Harry hung back, watching nervously, biting his lower lip as he stared at Draco with wide, scared eyes. At Harry's obvious distress, Draco pulled himself out of his own annoyance and reached out a hand to Harry. "I'm fine," he offered quietly. "I've just been researching too much, and it finally took its toll on me."

To prove his point, he gestured around his room, which was littered with piles of books and parchment, inkwells scattered here and there throughout the room. He had exhausted all of Severus' personal library, as well as Hogwarts, and was now researching books from St. Mungo's and various other magical hospitals around the world. He was toying with the idea of looking into Muggle medical books. While he didn't believe he'd find a cure for a magical affliction in them, they might lead him to a new branch of research.

Severus frowned at him, clearly not believing a word he said, but Harry looked a little less stressed out, which was all that Draco cared about. He could hash things out with his godfather later. "See? Nothing's wrong with me," he insisted, well aware that Severus was monitoring not only his health, but his magic levels as well. After sixty hours of rest, his magic should be fully restored. Of course, Draco didn't know how many times Severus had done this while he had been unconscious, but he trusted that the older Slytherin knew when to keep his mouth shut.

"Very well, Mr. Malfoy," Severus drawled at last, and Draco winced. He hated being spoken to like that, as if he were still Severus' student, and had just been caught throwing an explosive ingredient into a Gryffindor's cauldron. "You appear to be mostly recovered from whatever it was that put you in such a state in the first place. I suggest you take it easy for the next few days. That means less research, and more relaxing. Do I make myself clear?" The glare he was giving his godson clearly stated that he had better have made himself clear, or else.

Draco nodded obediently. "I understand, Severus. I will take it easy for a few days, okay?" he conceded. Seemingly satisfied, Severus nodded and turned away, leaving the room. Harry gave Draco one last worried look before following the older man.

The moment the door shut behind them, Draco sighed and closed his eyes, dropping his head onto his knees, trying to reign in his anger and hurt. Severus had ordered him to take it easy, not even realizing that it wasn't Draco's fault that he had been so very depleted. Only the fact that they had been worried about him had kept things from getting so much worse, because it meant that they hadn't been indulging in other, more pleasurable activities.

"Master Malfoy needs to tell Masters Harry and Snape what is happening," a small voice popped up, and Draco lifted his head to stare blankly at the house elf. A tempting scent reached him, and Draco sat up straighter, reaching eagerly for the bowl of soup Dobby had brought for him. The house elf gave it up willingly enough, but instead of leaving after making his delivery, as he usually did, Dobby remained, looking up at him nervously and wringing his hands. "Master Malfoy cannot keep doing this," he murmured sadly. "It hurts Master Malfoy. Dobby knows it does."

Draco smiled sadly at the elf. Figures, the one creature that understood him in this place was the one that had no reason to trust or help him. "I'll be okay, Dobby," he reassured the small elf. When Dobby frowned, he shook his head. "Look, I can't tell them. I just _can't_. Harry's happy, finally happy. He's found a reason to live. I won't take that away from him. And I won't take it away from Severus, either. He's been alone for so long."

Dobby's eyes welled up with tears, and Draco stared in horror. As soon as the first moan left Dobby's mouth, Draco was snapped out of his daze and into action, tripping out of the bed and landing hard on his knees on the floor, wincing as he clamped a hand over Dobby's mouth. "Be quiet!" he hissed.

The house elf stared at him for several long moments, his eyes filling with tears, before he finally regained control of himself and nodded. Draco let him go carefully, ready to shut him up again if he seemed like he was going to start carrying on. "Dobby, listen to me carefully, okay?" he asked. When the house elf nodded, he continued. "Severus and I are looking for a cure all the time now. It's only a matter of time before we find one, or create one. In the meantime, I can't let either of them know what's happening. If they know, Harry might try and kill himself again, and you don't want that, right?"

Dobby shook his head frantically, his eyes wide and panicked. "Neither do I," Draco said softly. "So we can't let them find out what's happening, all right?" He could see that Dobby wasn't happy about it, but the house elf nodded after a moment, agreeing to keep his silence, for now. "Thank you, Dobby," Draco said sincerely.

There was an uncomfortable silence for several minutes. Then, surprising Draco, Dobby spoke, his chatter more excited now. "Dobby will make sure Master Malfoy always has lots and lots of good things to eat. Dobby will help Master keep up his energy, he will!" With that, he popped out of the room, leaving a speechless Slytherin behind him. Moments later, a whole tray full of sugary confections appeared, and Draco laughed, amused at the house elf's idea of an energy boost. Did he want to put him on a sugar high? 

Draco's skin tingled, and his heartbeat quickened its pace, and he sighed, turning around and climbing into bed, ignoring the tempting tray of treats. Now that Draco was okay, Harry was going to want reassurance that nothing was amiss. Which meant that he would coax Severus back to bed with him, where they'd probably make love at least once before falling asleep for a few more hours.

Curling up under the heavy comforter, Draco closed his eyes, trying to ignore the way his heart thudded in his chest, and the sweat that now coated his body. He was going to need a shower afterwards, he thought ruefully. He wondered why it was that his body was put through all this strain, when it was Harry's body that was actually going through such rigorous exercise, but he shook his head a moment later. He knew why. Because when he had cast the spell to bind Harry to himself, he had only thought that Harry should be able to relax and enjoy himself, without putting a strain on his already damaged body.

Of course, if he had known that such thoughts would mean that the toll would be extracted from Draco's body and magic in exchange, perhaps he would have been more careful about his intentions. As he curled in on himself, Draco tried to distract himself by recalling the beginning of Severus and Harry's romance.

It had been an awkward, rocky start to their relationship. Harry had been the first to show interest, even in his depression. It was almost as if he saw his older caretaker as his sole reason for living, simply because Severus would not allow him to die, no matter what he had to do to ensure it.

The bond that Draco and Severus had more or less forced upon the green-eyed Savior had opened up entirely new possibilities, simply because Harry could feel their magic working on him, forcing him to heal and to live. They couldn't remove the curse, but they could give him life for an extended time. Of course, the magic wasn't limitless, and would eventually fail, which is why they were searching so desperately for a cure.

Draco didn't know how, exactly, Harry had convinced the Potions Master to bed him, but it was probably underhanded and sneaky. Severus had been careful those first nights, not wanting to push Harry's ravaged body too far. But rather than weakening him, or setting him back, Harry had felt much improved the following day. His color was healthy, and he felt stronger than he had before.

It hadn't occurred to either of them to worry about Draco when the boy begged off of breakfast, stating that he didn't feel well. Harry had felt better because Draco's magic had overcompensated for the rigorous activity. Once they had discovered that making love actually made Harry better, Severus had given in.

Draco, for his part, had quickly become much better at hiding his own exhaustion, heading for bed earlier and being careful not to sleep in too late when Severus was home. When Harry was home, it didn't matter if he stole a few extra hours of sleep, because Harry wouldn't crawl out of bed until noon or later on those days when he was missing Severus.

His breathing evened out as they finished, and Draco felt his strength returning gradually. Severus must have dosed Harry with his potions, which healed his body of the curse's effects and replenished his energy levels. At least he hadn't fought them today, Draco thought, grinning wryly. Occasionally, he'd still be mule-headed and resist taking the potions that kept the curse at bay. But he was always more agreeable after he'd been laid, so that might explain it.

Summoning another book, Draco set it to read itself and started taking notes on a length of parchment. A gentle breeze drifted though the room, bringing with it the rustle of falling leaves, and Draco realized that he'd have to rake them up again. Or he could just vanish them away, he thought, rolling his eyes. But if he did that, the Muggle neighbors might become suspicious, which might cause problems for Harry. So Draco was resigned to doing things the Muggle way…usually.

_More obscure curses were used back in Merlin's time, the cures for many of them created by Merlin himself. Three curses, in particular, seemed to be favored for the execution of convicted criminals. Of these curses, two are predecessors to today's Unforgivables, and the third was designed to cause as much pain and suffering as a human being could stand in the shortest amount of time before death._

Draco pulled himself out of his contemplation of the outside, listening to the book with keen interest. Glancing at the title, he frowned. He wouldn't have guessed that such a mundane book might hold a key component to his dilemma. _Merlin was said to be the only wizard with the knowledge and ability to stop these deadly curses, and to reverse the damage done. Nothing else is currently known about these Dark Curses, other than that they fell into obscurity. Neither the curses nor the reversal of them exist in any known book in the wizarding world._

Cursing, Draco scowled, slamming the book shut and setting it carefully on his desk. He'd probably need that later, so there was no point in tossing it haphazardly and risking losing it. Perhaps the reason they weren't having any luck with finding a solution was simply because they weren't looking in the right time period. They were looking for curses that existed _today_, not curses that had been used back in Merlin's time.

"Dobby?" he called quietly, not sure if the house elf would answer. A second later, Dobby appeared with a quiet 'pop', staring up at Draco questioningly. "Could you please find me some books from the Hogwarts library on spells and curses from back in Merlin's time? I need to send an owl to some of the larger libraries and see if they have anything, as well."

Dobby nodded his understand. "Dobby is finding the young master everything that is needing to be found," he agreed willingly enough. With another 'pop', he was gone, and Draco grabbed some more parchment, penning his request in an elegant calligraphy and signing his name with a flourish at the bottom. He might still be considered a criminal by the general wizarding public, but the libraries around him knew better than to deny his request, lest they have an angry Severus Snape or Harry Potter visiting them shortly thereafter.

Feeling like he might finally be getting somewhere, Draco slipped out of bed carefully. He felt strong enough, so he grabbed some clothes and headed for the shower. Just thinking about having gone three days without hot water and soap was disgusting. He was sure that Severus had applied a judicious amount of cleaning charms, and Harry had probably washed him down with a wet cloth, but he wasn't awake for any of it, so as far as he was concerned, he was long overdue for a long, hot shower.

He took his time in the shower, enjoying the warm water cascading over him as he lathered up his hair and applied soap to his skin. When he finally felt clean and refreshed, Draco slipped out of the shower and dressed himself in warm clothes. Slipping out of his room, the blond Slytherin headed for the front door. He'd sit outside in the cool air for a little while, enjoying the quiet while it lasted. Maybe he'd even work on the leaves a little.

Stepping out the front door, Draco breathed in the fresh air, loving the smell of the yard in the autumn. The air had that dry, brittle feel to it that indicated a change from the heat of summer to the cooler temperatures of fall. Rain would no doubt be falling soon, and he'd be shut inside most of the time, watching the depressingly dark clouds hover over Godric's Hollow.

Draco didn't like the rain. It brought a sort of depressing lethargy with it that sapped Draco of whatever energy he had. When it rained, he'd either read in front of the fire in the living room, or curl up in the windowsill and watch the rain outside, his thoughts miles away.

But today, the sky was a brilliant blue, the brilliant colors of the leaves dancing like fire against the bright canopy of the sky. The sun created a glare, and Draco squinted up at the sky, watching the white clouds flow easily as they passed him by, unconcerned with the world below them.

Draco sighed; he wished he could be the same, just floating along merrily on his way, not caring where he went or how he got there. But he had made his choices – and some had been made for him – and he couldn't undo it now. Still, even if he could undo it all, he didn't know if he'd want to. He rather enjoyed having two staunch defenders on his side. His godfather had always been a protector for him, but Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World? He would have never guessed that the other boy would defend him so fiercely in front of the entire wizarding world.

Sitting on the stairs leading up to the porch, Draco leaned back on his elbows, tilting his face upwards to bathe in the warm sun. Soothed by the warmth, and the quiet rustle of tree leaves, Draco made himself a solemn vow. He would do anything that was required of him if it meant keeping his godfather and best friend happy. _Anything._


	3. Chapter 3

"We need to have a discussion," Severus drawled in that no-nonsense tone he used when he suspected he might be reduced to issuing a direct order to Draco. The blond Slytherin just turned his head, glaring up at him, but then shrugged, turning back to stare out at the yard. It was about two hours after he had first come out here, soaking up the sun while it lasted. Harry was no doubt still asleep, believing that everything was fine with his friend and lover.

Severus sat next to him, pulling his robes tight around him, and silence fell between them. Draco wasn't about to start the conversation, so he'd leave it up to his godfather instead. After all, Severus was the one who wanted to talk in the first place. The quiet rustling of leaves as they fell from their trees, and the occasional chirp of birds were the only sounds for several moments. Deciding that it was still early enough that the Muggles wouldn't be awake yet, Draco gestured towards the trees, muttering a quick charm that had them flying into piles, where they'd remain until Harry decided they needed to rake them up.

"I'm glad to see that your magic is sufficiently replenished for such a widespread basic charm," Severus commented dryly. Draco didn't bother to grace him with a response. His magic levels were fine. He was a little tired from Harry's early morning activities, but nothing that would greatly affect his ability to cast spells yet.

Severus turned his head to regard him seriously, and the warm concern in his eyes contrarily made Draco angry. Sure, he cared _now_, after Draco had collapsed, but he hadn't noticed when Draco was exhausted to the point where he had practically stopped eating, and only dragged himself to the shower because he couldn't stand feeling dirty after participating in activities that he wasn't even present for? Severus must have seen the fury that he couldn't hide in Draco's glare, because he frowned lightly, his dark eyes growing deeper with concern and worry.

"What is wrong, Draco? Your collapse wasn't normal. Your magic levels were severely depleted, to the point where I would doubt your ability to cast a simple hovering charm. And you slept like the dead. Nothing either Harry or I did would wake you. It was almost like you were in a healing coma." Almost, huh? Which meant that it hadn't been a healing coma, but was probably a coma nonetheless.

Draco sighed, tilting his head back. "I told you, I just overworked myself. I'm not going to give you a different answer, so you might as well drop it now," he closed his eyes again, enjoying the sun on his face, the breeze gentle and cool on his heated skin. "I'll be more careful, so that I don't worry Harry anymore, all right?" he offered.

A low growl at his side startled him into opening his eyes, and he looked to his left to see Severus' face growing dark in fury and frustration. "How am I to help you if I don't even know what's wrong?" he demanded, his anger overriding his sense of cunning. He was obviously too worried to bother trying to coax the information out of Draco, but he wasn't the only one who could be stubborn. Draco just glared silently at him, waiting.

Severus visibly gathered himself, his eyes closed as he took several deep breaths. When he opened his eyes again, his expression was calm and controlled, his eyes still worried, but no longer angry. "If you won't tell me what is wrong, then I am afraid I may have to resort to more drastic measures."

"Like what?" Draco scoffed. "Veritaserum?" When Severus didn't say anything, Draco swallowed, turning his face away so that Severus couldn't see the hurt and betrayal that he couldn't hide. Severus would really force him to drink Veritaserum, rob his of his control, just to make him tell him what was wrong? And only because Harry was worried, he thought bitterly. Ever since he had called Severus and the two had worked so hard to save his life, Severus had been willing to do anything for the other boy. Not that he could really blame Severus for his extreme loyalty to Harry, since he felt the same way, but it still hurt.

Blinking back the tears, Draco asked, "When you bound yourself to Harry, what were you thinking of?" He needed to know, because his own explanation depended on Severus' answer. The older man stilled beside him, and Draco risked a glance over. Now it was Severus who was looking away, staring blankly out over the yard, an uncommonly pained expression on his face. Whatever it was, it was causing him to struggle internally, obviously torn between his desire to keep silent and his need to know what was wrong with Draco.

"I was thinking of his mother," Severus relented, his voice quiet and gruff as he spoke, the words obviously causing him pain. "I had loved Lily, and given a Wizard's Oath to protect her son, no matter the cost. When the war ended, I had thought my job was done, that Harry would finally get his happily-ever-after. I knew that the loss of his friends and family had hurt him badly, but I thought that he'd be able to get over it in time. And I had hoped that you two might become friends, as well."

Draco nodded, silently encouraging his godfather to continue, holding his breath. If Severus was trying to say what he thought he was saying, then he'd understand just what, exactly, he had done when Draco explained the direction of his own thoughts during the spellcasting. Severus sighed, his shoulders slumping wearily as his eyes closed against the grief that Draco could see in them. "When you called me here that day, I thought for sure that I had failed, that I hadn't done enough to protect him, that I had lost him for good, and that I had failed Lily."

Draco nodded. "And so, you bound your heart to him through memories of his mother," he murmured sympathetically. Severus froze, his back going stiff as a board, his eyes open in confusion that slowly changed into realization, and then further into horror as he put two and two together. Turning to Draco, he opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Still, Draco answered the unspoken question, "I bound my body and magic to him. All I could think of when we did the spell was that I didn't want him to die. I didn't want the curse to continue to destroy his body. I wanted him to be able to live freely, without pain or suffering."

Holding his hands out in supplication, Draco entreated, "Please don't tell Harry. He doesn't need to know what we've done. Let him think I just exhausted myself. He doesn't recognize monitoring charms, and no doubt didn't realize that you were testing for my magic levels as well as my health." Severus frowned at him, clearly struggling. "Please, Severus," Draco pleaded. "I promised myself that I'd do anything I had to if it meant that you and Harry could be happy. I don't want this to ruin it. I don't."

Severus sighed. "I should have realized," he muttered. "It was abnormal for a person as inherently good as Harry to attach himself to me. And the fact that coupling made him better was unusual, too. I should have known something was up!" he growled, his anger turned internally now. "The signs were all there! He'd get better, you'd get worse. You were hiding your exhaustion and poor health from us, and we were too blind to see it! I was too blind!"

Once again, Harry was blameless in the matter. He had not been given a choice of whether or not he wished to be saved by the two Slytherins. That had been their decision, and theirs alone. Harry had never thanked them for it. Only recently had he been able to admit that perhaps they hadn't been entirely wrong in saving him.

Draco sighed impatiently, angry again, because it was better than being hurt and miserable. "You don't get it, do you?" he snapped, and Severus gave him surprised eyes. "It's not me you need to worry about, Severus. It's Harry! It's always been Harry! When we cast that spell, we gave him what he needed – health, family, and love. He needed a reason to live, and he needed the strength to do so. We gave him that. _We _did! And there's no way in hell I'm going to let you mess that up now! So don't tell Harry what's going on, okay?"

Severus looked torn, and Draco huffed angrily. "Look, Severus," he tried to explain more rationally, "we're looking for the cure. All the time. I think I might have an actual lead this time." He waved his hand dismissively at Severus' sharp look. He'd explain his hunch later if he was right. "But what do you think Harry would do if he realized that you're bound to him through memories of his dead mother? And that every time he and you make love, it takes its toll on my body and magic?"

Realization dawned, and Draco rolled his eyes. Severus could be so dense sometimes, when he was blinded by emotion. The Potions Master loved deeply, and felt deeply, and only recently had he been able to relax enough to let those emotions start peeking out from his iron control. Draco didn't want to see him go back into hiding. And he didn't want Harry to be hurt either.

"So until I know if this lead is any good or not, we're not going to say anything to Harry. And you're not going to treat him any differently. The spell might have given you his heart, and given him yours, but you two love each other now, and it doesn't matter if it's through a spell, or gratitude, or genuine affection. And I don't want you to stop your activities because of me, either," he scowled at the older man in warning. "He feels better, stronger, afterwards, and he doesn't fight you on taking the potions. I won't be responsible for that changing, understood?"

Severus frowned at him. "We have to take your health into consideration, too," he argued. "Even if this hunch of yours turns out to be a step in the right direction, it does us no good if you collapse!" The _again_ hung silently in the air between them, and Draco swallowed, his throat tight and his eyes hot. This was so frustrating, and Severus wasn't making it any easier.

"Fine, then," he snarled, his pain and frustration overwhelming his sense of self-preservation. "I'll put it this way. If you won't voluntarily keep things as normal as possible for Harry, I will Obliviate you and go on my merry way, and you'll be none the wiser." It was a low blow, threatening to wipe part of Severus' memories, but he didn't care. Harry was the most important person to him right now, even above his godfather. The other boy had fought for him and taken him in. He hadn't abused his position over Draco, and he had never once indicated that he expected anything in return for his protection. In fact, he had all but demanded that Draco not change the hostile relationship between them unless he wanted to.

It hadn't taken long for Draco to realize that Harry was far too Gryffindor to have any ulterior motives, and that he had meant what he had said about their relationship. For every small gesture of friendship that Draco initiated, Harry welcomed it openly. He didn't criticize the boy for trying, and was gentle in his chastisement when the blond messed something up. It had been a hard road, but well worth it to Draco, considering what he had gained from it. He had a best friend now, a true friend that trusted him and protected him and loved him like family. It was more than he'd ever had before, even with living parents.

It had been slow at first, Draco unable and unwilling to accept the help of his biggest rival, and Harry patiently waiting for him to come around. If Draco wanted to bicker, Harry was more than willing to accommodate him, but it was in a tired, weary way, as if he was only arguing to get things over with. Eventually, Draco came to see his protector and guardian in an entirely new light. He began to see what it was that others saw in Harry Potter, Savior of the wizarding world; a reckless, stubborn, open-hearted person who loved deeply and gave everything he had to those that loved him in return.

Curious, Draco had watched the wizarding world as it celebrated his victory over Voldemort, and then seemingly forgot about him. Harry had refused, in those days following the wars, to go out into the public view. He had hidden himself away in Hogwarts, and then in Grimmauld Place, and finally here in Godric's Hollow, where he remained isolated under a Fidelius Charm of which he was the Secret-Keeper. The celebrations had gone on for weeks, and Harry had ventured outside of whatever residence he was currently in only for the funerals of his friends, those he had lost in the war. Even then, it had been under Polyjuice.

The newspapers had flooded his friends' funerals, hoping to get a glimpse of Harry Potter, and then had reported in disappointment that he hadn't shown up to honor his friends' memories. Harry had stopped reading the papers after that, wholly disinterested in what they had to say about him. It was about then that his depression had firmly taken hold, and Draco had been left to watch over him as best he could. Until the night Harry had cast that curse against himself, and very nearly succeeded in taking his own life.

Now, six months later, Harry was finally starting to return to himself, or at least was learning to cope with the depression, making new attachments and realizing that he couldn't stay in the past forever. He'd join his friends and family when the time came, but for now, he needed to live, because there were still people who needed him, who wanted him to live, who loved him. And Severus was threatening to destroy all of their effort and hard work with a few misplaced, ill-thought out words.

Draco maintained his glare, silver eyes boring darkly into black, his words brutal and honest. Severus studied him for several long moments, and then tilted his head in acquiescence. "Very well," he agreed, and Draco breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't really wanted to try and hex his godfather if it could be helped. "But," the Potions Master added, glaring back at him, "you will come to me when your magical stores get too depleted. Also, you will take potions to keep up your strength and health, every day until we find a cure. Understood?"

Draco grimaced at the idea of having to take potions, but agreed readily enough. If taking the potions – pepper-up, nutrient, and probably a few others – meant that Severus would keep their secret from Harry, then it was more than worth it. Glancing up at his godfather, he was startled to find a disconcerted expression on the man's face, as if some thought had just occurred to him and knocked him senseless. "Severus?" he asked tentatively.

Dark eyes turned to stare down at him, and Draco nearly panicked at the horror he saw in there. Leaning forward, Draco reached for his godfather, who flinched at the movement. Now Draco was really worried; Severus had never avoided his touch before. "What is it? What's wrong? What did I do?" he demanded, the words tripping over his tongue in rapid succession.

"How much do you feel?" Severus whispered. Draco stared at him blankly for several long moments, before he burst out laughing. _That _was what Severus had been worried about? And here Draco had been playing all sorts of scenarios in his head. Although he could see the Potions Master's point, especially considering how much he valued his privacy, but the relief left him giddy. Severus just glared at him darkly.

"I can tell when you start and when you stop, because it starts my heartbeat thundering, and strains my body, pulling my magic away from me and into Harry, but I don't actually _feel _anything," he reassured the older wizard. "And don't you dare turn him down because you're worried about me," he added. "I'm fine, and he needs you, needs us. If you hesitate, or if you aren't as…enthusiastic as usual," he grinned, satisfied when Severus flushed in mortification, "he'll know something's wrong. And once he knows something is wrong, he won't stop until he figures it out, or coaxes it out of one of us."

Severus agreed with another sigh. Inside, the rattling of silverware alerted them that Harry was awake and moving about. Sharing one last look with each other, Severus and Draco rose and headed indoors. Breakfast sounded good, and as they walked inside, Severus reached over and laid a cool hand on the back of Draco's neck, the pressure comforting. Draco immediately felt better, and Severus squeezed lightly as they entered the kitchen where Harry was just setting the table. The other boy looked up at them and smiled, his emerald eyes alight with life and good health. As they sat down, Severus glanced at Draco and said, "Now tell us about this lead of yours."

Harry's interest was captured, and he turned to stare intently at Draco, who sighed as if he was put out. In all honesty, he was just happy to see Harry in such good condition, and to know that Severus would keep his word, his long fingers already entwined with Harry's where they rested on the table. As the table filled with breakfast, Draco smiled and told them about the excerpt he had found and what it might mean. The kitchen was alive with chatter and warm with the autumn sunshine, and Draco found himself content, sitting there with his best friend and his godfather. For the first time, Draco realized that he belonged here, that he was a part of this little family, and the knowledge sent a warm tingling through him. He was home.


	4. Chapter 4

Draco received his order shortly after breakfast, the owls delivering the packages directly to his room. Dobby, too, had returned from Hogwarts, his arms burdened with books from the library, more floating behind him. Draco had quickly sorted them by category, ranging from spells to potions to curses to other, more obscure topics.

Severus had agreed to help him sort through the books, particularly those pertaining to potions from back in Merlin's time. Draco laughed; he was sure that Severus was far more intrigued by the idea of potions that existed long before his time than he had let on so far. If there was anything the Potions Master couldn't resist, it was the creation of new potions, and the replication of forgotten ones. No doubt he'd be locked in his personal lab in no time, experimenting on those potions designed to counteract a wide variety of curses and poisons.

Harry had offered to help as well, once he had realized what they were up to, and Draco had agreed readily enough, ignoring the sharp look Severus had given him. If Harry was willing to help, then Draco wasn't about to refuse him. It was a good sign, one that meant that perhaps Harry himself was willing to find a cure now, ready to finally start living his life properly, instead of just waiting for death to claim him. Draco rather suspected that his relationship with Severus had a lot to do with that, but he still liked to think that he had at least contributed in some small way to Harry's growing desire to live, and to take an active role in the direction his life was taking.

Draco had given Harry the books on curses, while he looked up their counters. He figured that Harry knew the most about the spell he had cast on himself, and if he could locate the curse in any of those books, then they'd have made a huge step forward in finding a cure. In the meantime, perhaps he'd stumble across the counter to whatever curse it was that Harry had used on himself.

Both Severus and Draco had asked the raven-haired wizard what he had cast upon himself, but Harry had only told him that he didn't know. He had witnessed the curse while inside Voldemort's head, and had seen its effects firsthand, and had simply duplicated what he had seen. He couldn't even remember if there were actual words that went with it, because he had cast it silently, using only his wand to focus the curse at himself.

Since Severus had opted to read down in the den, Harry and Draco had spread out in Draco's room, lying on their stomachs on Draco's king-size bed and pouring over the books. Some of them were so dry that they nearly sent the boys into a coma. Others were too complicated, written in ancient runes or some other unfamiliar tongue that would require interpretation if the other books yielded nothing. Those were set aside for later perusal.

The dry crackling of parchment and the faint creak of worn leather were the only sounds that filled the room for several long hours. Finally, though, Draco felt the bed shift as Harry stretched, closing the book he had been reading through with a sigh. "I need a break," he groaned dramatically, and Draco grinned; that was the Gryffindor he knew! "Wanna go outside for a while?" Harry asked, glancing sideways at him.

Draco turned his eyes down at the book, debating for a brief moment. He wasn't really getting anywhere, and his eyes were straining, his vision growing blurry the longer he stared at the pages, the words failing to make sense. Perhaps a break would be a good idea, he admitted reluctantly.

"Sure. Sounds good," he agreed, glancing one more at the books before sighing and turning away. He really didn't like taking even a small break from his current lead, because it was the best one he'd had in a while, but even he understood that if he continued to push himself, he might miss something important, the one clue that could give him the solution he needed.

He followed Harry outside into the sunshine, the breeze still gentle and warm. Harry looked out over the yard and noticed the leaf piles. Turning back to Draco, he grinned. "You used magic," he accused teasingly. Draco just shrugged, not bothering to deny it. Tilting his head back, Harry laughed delightedly, and the blond smiled.

Harry turned and made a beeline for the closest pile of leaves, toppling headfirst into them with a small laugh. With a whoosh and crackle, the leaves flew into the air, only to fall back down haphazardly, uncaring of where they landed. Leaning down, Draco gently combed the leaves out of Harry's hair, grinning when the messy nest became even more so, sticking up in every direction.

Draco knew a little about Harry's life with the Dursleys, and had no doubt that Harry had been made to rake up the leaves, but hadn't been allowed to play in them. His stupid cousin, Dudley, however, had probably trampled through them, solely for the spiteful entertainment of having to watch Harry rake them up again and get yelled at by his aunt and uncle.

After the war had ended, the media and the Ministry had both brought forth doubts concerning Harry's mental health. They had wanted him to take several psychiatric tests, which Harry had vehemently refused, hurt and angry. Draco remembered Harry glancing at the headlines in the Daily Prophet only a few times before he gave up altogether, uncaring of what the media had to say, irrespective of the ongoing celebrations following Voldemort's demise.

Still, when Draco's trial had come around, everything had changed. To keep his archrival out of Azkaban, Harry had sought to protect him. Unfortunately, the only feasible way to do that would be to claim guardianship over the Malfoy heir for the next three years, while he was monitored for rehabilitation and reintroduction into normal wizarding society. Since they were the same age, it was mostly just official paperwork, rather than any agreement on Harry's behalf to provide for Draco during the three-year term. As both the Potter and Malfoy heirs had rather significant assets, there was no monetary obligation involved, either.

However, in order for Harry to obtain guardianship over Draco, he had to be declared mentally and emotionally stable. Draco had thought Harry would refuse; after all, he wasn't obligated to help a Malfoy in the slightest. In a move that surprised Draco, and finally made him start to see that giving, open-hearted teenager that others saw in the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry agreed to the psychiatric evaluations, on the single condition that he be allowed to choose the examiners.

The Wizengamot had agreed, confident in their knowledge of the psychiatrists residing in St. Mungo's, as well as those with independent practices. Harry had stunned them when, instead of picking a wizarding examiner, he chose three Muggle psychiatrists instead. It was a clever move, more Slytherin than Gryffindor, and Draco had respected Harry for the maneuvering. The Wizengamot and the Ministry, already on shaky ground for their weak effort in the war, could not be foresworn, and so they had agreed to his terms.

Harry had been declared mentally stable, although he had been diagnosed with depression. Still, that was not enough to keep him from claiming guardianship over Draco. During the brief trial that followed, Harry's past with the Dursley's was brought into the light and intensely scrutinized. Draco had watched Harry fight back against the hurt and anger and betrayal as those secrets he had kept for so long were thrown up for public speculation. More than that, it was obvious that the Wizengamot knew about his life growing up with the Dursleys, which begged the question: why hadn't they done anything about it?

Still, Draco thought, flopping on his back in the leaf pile next to Harry, the other boy had proved resilient and resolute, and had been granted guardianship over Draco Malfoy. It was a better life than Draco had ever imagined. He was of age and could use magic, Harry let him more or less do as he pleased, he lived away from the wizarding world, but could get there easily enough whenever he wanted to.

Nonetheless, he had been helpless to do anything as the depression had overwhelmed Harry, unable to change his behavior quickly enough to gain the other boy's confidence. And when it had finally gotten too bad, when Harry had finally decided to do something about it, Draco had been able to do nothing but call upon his godfather to save his protector.

Harry poked him in the ribs, startling Draco out of his morbid thoughts. Silver eyes glanced up to catch green, and he watched the emotions cross Harry's face as he finally saw what Draco couldn't hide. Confusion, shock, sorrow, and finally, regret. Draco smiled grimly, his heart clenching with the sharp pang of bitterness he couldn't shake. Reaching up, he cupped Harry's cheek in the palm of his hand, and chuckled. "You look wounded," he murmured quietly.

Harry just turned his face and nuzzled against Draco's hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't know," he muttered in reply, his face heating in embarrassment. Draco sighed and sat up, his hand sliding away from Harry so he could run fingers tiredly through blond strands, removing leaves from his hair. He'd need another shower. And it was almost lunch time. Then he'd go back up and do more research. He was so close; he could feel it, urgency humming through his veins and buzzing across his skin.

He stood and turned, his eyes bright with a wicked amusement as he pulled out his wand, flicking it at the leaves scattered around and sending them soaring back into a pile – right on top of the reclining raven-haired boy. Sputtering, Harry waved his arms, flailing, the leaves scattering back over the ground again as he glared up at Draco, the tension broken.

"Your turn," Draco smirked, turning his back on his best friend and walking into the house. "As for me, I'm going to go take a hot shower. Finish playing in the leaves," he offered. A snort sounded behind him, and Draco was pretty sure Harry was probably rolling his eyes at him.

Draco took a quick shower, leaving his laundry in the hamper to be taken care of later, scrubbing the leaves out of his hair, his thoughts far away. Turning off the warm water, Draco stepped out of the shower stall and dried himself off quickly, frowning to himself. Once he was dressed, he stepped quietly out into the hallway, padding down to the kitchen. A light lunch, and then more research, he promised himself.

He heard murmured voices in the kitchen as he approached, and his Slytherin nature kicked in. Slipping silently closer, Draco stopped right outside the room, hidden by the wall that separated the kitchen from the hallway. Harry and Severus were talking seriously, and Draco didn't want to miss it.

"Draco loves me," Harry blurted, and Draco blinked, then sighed. Oh, dear, this wasn't going to go over well. He hadn't meant to let it slip like that, but it had been so good to see Harry laughing again, bright and full of life, the way he was meant to be, the way he was before the war had cost him everything he cherished, taken away everybody who loved him, who had only his best interest at heart.

"I'm well aware of that," Severus murmured. Draco rolled his eyes; could the Potions Master be any more obtuse? He really was an insensitive jerk sometimes, Draco thought darkly. Still, he wanted to hear the rest of the conversation, so he remained where he was, his breathing silent and his body motionless.

"No, no, no!" Harry insisted. "I mean, he _loves _me. Like the way you do!" The hysteria was slowly creeping in. "And I didn't see it! I didn't know!" Draco blinked; Harry sounded more upset about having not realized Draco's feelings than he did about the fact that Draco loved him in the first place. That was…interesting.

"I know, Harry," Severus soothed. "Draco has loved you for a long time, but you chose me, and he accepted that. Merlin only knows why you chose me, but you did, and Draco respects your choice. As he always has, ever since you defended him in court, challenging the wizarding public in a direct confrontation."

Harry fell silent, and Draco bit his lower lip. He had suspected that Severus was aware of his feelings, but the older man had trusted him to be alone with Harry when he left to do his research. And Harry trusted him to be there for him, to be his best friend, a brother rather than a lover. Draco would never do anything that would compromise his relationship with the other boy. Nor would he ever take any action that would hurt his godfather. They had chosen each other, and as long as he was allowed to remain with them, he would play his part well.

_Not well enough, obviously,_ he thought bitterly, berating himself even as he turned away, heading back up the hallway and upstairs to his room. _You let him see, stupid. You should've closed your eyes, or sat up, or something! But no, you just stared at him, wearing your heart on your sleeve so that even blind people could see it!_

His hurt and anger was directed inwards as he slipped inside, not wanting to know what else they'd have to say. No doubt Harry was still upset, and Severus would try to comfort him. He'd just stay out of the way, then, and immerse himself in his research. His eyes darted around the stacks of books, looking for a likely prospect. He finally settled for a book bound in deep black leather, gleaming chrome interlaced over its cover, the words so faded as to be illegible.

Flipping the front flap, Draco scanned down the table of contents, but quickly realized that he wouldn't be able to read this book. All of the letters were made of squiggles, blurring and twisting together until they made his eyes spin and his head ache. Whatever language this way, it was completely useless to him. Deciding to set it aside for later, so he could show it to Severus, Draco tossed it onto the bed next to him and pulled out another book, delving into the research. He didn't bother to set the spell that would read the words out to him, needing the distraction of actually concentrating on the words set on the parchment in front of him.

The hours passed, broken only by a brief appearance from Dobby to encourage him to eat some food. Draco didn't know what Severus and Harry were up to, but they were blessedly quiet, so he didn't concern himself overly much. The books that he poured through yielded nothing, though, and in the end, he found himself drawn back to the black leather bound manuscript, opening it and staring intently at the squiggles.

He tried casting the charm that would read the book out loud, but it sputtered out, offering up only a slight hiss before the spell died. Apparently, it wasn't any language that the spell was designed for. Of course, the difficulty in reading it was part of the intrigue, but Draco knew that he was just wasting time that could be better spent reading books he could actually understand.

His eyes drooped slowly over his book, his head dropping onto his crossed arms. Shortly thereafter, he was asleep, breathing softly, the book left open in front of him. Sleeping, he wasn't aware of the two wizards entering the room, one pulling the book gently out from under his head, and the other one maneuvering him under the covers, tucking him in. A glance out the window showed that Draco had been studying for nearly six hours, except for the times when he had nibbled on the food Dobby had brought to him.

"Sev," Harry murmured, staring oddly at the book in his hands. The Potions Master glanced at him and froze, slowly straightening. Harry's eyes were bright in the lamplight, and Severus took a step forward, his arms reaching for Harry before falling uselessly to his sides.

Brilliant emerald eyes turned up to stare at him, shock plainly visible. "This is it. It must be. It's the book Voldemort got the spell from," he murmured. Severus frowned, moving to stand behind Harry, staring down over his shoulder at the confusing squiggles on the page. As he watched, the pages seemed to writhe, the lines blurring and reforming.

Severus breathed out slowly. "Parseltongue?" he asked, his voice hushed in the silence of the room. Harry nodded, his fingers tracing the lines almost absently, his mind already translating the text. He whispered softly to himself, hisses escaping from between his teeth. Severus didn't understand, but he didn't need to. Reaching out, he wrapped his arms around Harry, his gaze focused on the unconscious form in the large bed. "Draco found it. Even without realizing what he had, he found it."

Harry tilted his head up and back to stare at him, surprised, before turning his head to stare over at Draco as well, watching the boy sleep for several long moments. Severus had come clean with him about what was happening to Draco every time they exerted themselves. Or rather, every time he did.

"You were right. He'd kill himself for us, wouldn't he?" he asked softly. He felt Severus nod against him, and his shoulders slumped. Moments later, his spine stiffened and he stared back down at the book, his expression one of determination. "Then we had better solve this and save him the trouble, huh?"

Severus chuckled at his back, and the two wizards left the room, closing the door silently behind them and leaving Draco Malfoy asleep and none the wiser, completely unaware that he had just discovered the cure to Harry's curse, however unintentionally it had been.


	5. Chapter 5

Draco woke screaming, his body feeling as if it was being torn asunder, magic burning lashes across sensitive flesh, leaving invisible cuts everywhere. Faintly, he registered other screams and realized that he wasn't the only one suffering. _Harry!_

Still, it was impossible for him to go to his friend's side, to do anything but writhe in absolute agony, screaming and flailing against something he could not touch, could not block, and could not fight. His covers twisted around him, trying to ensnare his limbs until Draco fell off the bed, landing with a solid thump on the floor of his bedroom.

The short drop knocked the breath from him, and his screams were cut off momentarily. In that brief moment of silence, Draco realized two things. First, Harry was still screaming, but so was Severus. Secondly, whatever was hurting them wasn't malicious. In fact, it felt almost like a…oh. A counter curse.

Draco would have cursed, would have smacked Harry, would have done a lot of things, but the power crashed over him, overwhelming him in agony. All he could feel, could think about, was pain. Pain, pain, pain, painpainpainpain! For an eternity, his world consisted of nothing but the singular torture of a deadly curse being reversed, undone.

At some point, he became aware of a bitter, metallic taste flooding his mouth, and managed to turn his head enough to the side to avoid choking on his own blood. His body twisted in and around itself, the pain more severe and longer lasting than any Cruciatus curse he had ever experienced. A small part of him had registered that the screaming in the other room had stopped, and that there were voices surrounding him, calling his name, hands touching him.

He flinched at the touches, crying out as he writhed, curling in on himself, tears and blood pooling beneath him as the magic wreaked havoc on his body. But Severus and Harry were safe. They were okay, and that was what mattered the most. With that reassurance, Draco finally succumbed to the pain that wracked his body with shudders and lost consciousness, his body twitching as the magic continued to run over him, reversing the effects of a curse that had never been cast on him.

~*~HP~*~

When Draco awoke next, he was in a bed, though he didn't know which room. His eyes still closed, he took inventory of his body. Other than a few dull aches and pains, he appeared to be mostly in good health. Slowly, he began to make sense of his surroundings and the things happening around him.

Warm hands were petting him almost frantically, brushing across his forehead and down his cheeks, running through the blond strands. Another set of hands was holding his wrist, checking his pulse, while a low voice murmured incantations. Draco groaned, and the hands stilled, which made him frown, forcing his eyes to open. The deep burgundy canopy above his head let him know that he was in Harry's room, rather than his own. Then again, he supposed his room was probably still a bit of a mess, the floor probably covered in blood and other bodily fluids.

Grimacing, Draco tried to push himself up; he wanted a shower. Two sets of hands pushed him back down, and he growled, reaching up to shove at them halfheartedly. Harry and Severus ignored his feeble struggles and pinned him to the bed until he gave up, slumping back into the covers sulkily, his body throbbing dully from the exertion.

"Stay down, Draco, please," Harry murmured, leaning over Draco and pressing his forehead against the other boy's. "You had us so worried," he mumbled, his eyes wide and afraid. Draco smiled weakly up at him, reaching up a slender hand and cupping Harry's cheek. Emerald eyes softened, the body poised above his relaxing.

"It looks like you'll recover just fine," Severus' voice startled both boys, and Harry pulled back as Draco turned his head to scowl up at the other man. Severus just raised an elegant eyebrow, though his dark eyes were worried as well, searching his. Draco felt the inquiry, and relaxed, permitting the more invasive magic as Severus dug deeper, performing a full-body scan. Draco waited patiently for the several minutes it took, Harry a nervous, tense presence at his side.

Draco flicked his eyes to Harry and sighed. "I'm fine, so would you please stop worrying? I don't need you to play mother hen," he frowned. Harry flinched and backed up about two steps. "Bloody hell!" Draco snapped, furious. His friend grimaced and went to back up more, but Draco snapped out a hand and grabbed his wrist. "That's not what I meant. I don't mind you being here. I just don't want you worrying about me. I'm fine, okay? Really," he reassured the other man, his voice gentling towards the end.

Harry bit his lower lip and glanced up at Severus, checking with him before moving a step closer. Draco closed his eyes to cover the hurt he was too tired to hide. Harry's gesture had done nothing more than confirm what Draco already knew; even without the spell, Harry's heart belonged to Severus, and the same was true for the other man. Draco knew that, but it still hurt to have it be so blatantly obvious.

"I'm sorry," Harry blurted out, but Draco didn't open his eyes. He didn't want to see the apology in his friend's eyes, didn't want to see Severus' gentle frown or the mild reprimand in his eyes. In truth, he just wanted them both to go away. He had survived the night, as had they, and he couldn't feel that thrice-damned curse eating away at Harry's life and magic anymore. He wondered idly how they had found the solution, and why it hadn't required more research, but he'd ask later, when he had better control over himself.

Long, cool fingers brushed his hair off his forehead, before settling there, their familiar, comforting touch the last thing Draco wanted right then. "That book, the one with the lines," he murmured, his words soft and low. "It was written in Parseltongue, which is why you couldn't read it. Harry saw it and recognized the signs. He read the book and found the curse. It must have been something that Voldemort found years ago, when he was still a student. When we questioned Dobby, he said that it had been in the Malfoy family vault. What made you check there?" he asked, his curiosity evident.

Draco shook his head. "I didn't," he murmured hoarsely. When the other two wizards made an inquiring sound, he smiled grimly. "I just asked Dobby to look in the Hogwarts library for any books that might contain the information I needed, spells and curses from Merlin's time. No doubt that book was part of the Restricted Section at one time, and when he called them all, I'm sure he got more than were actually in the library at the time." He smiled, imagining surprised people as books flew out of their hands or disappeared from their homes, summoned by a mysterious magic.

"I see," murmured Severus, his hand sliding away from Draco's forehead, so that he keenly felt its loss. He could feel the Potions Master's intense gaze on his face and fought the urge to turn away from him, because then he'd be facing Harry, which wouldn't make things any better. With a sigh, he squirmed further down into the covers.

Yawning, he muttered, "I'm tired, and I still hurt. Please, can this wait until later? I'm obviously not dying, no matter how wretched I feel, or how much damage that bloody counter-curse did while reversing the effects, so let me sleep," he growled out tiredly, but his body remained tense, painfully aware of the other two wizards in the room with him. He felt no obligation to leave Harry's room, since they had put him in here in the first place.

"I'm sorry," Harry murmured again, softer this time, and Draco frowned. What was he apologizing for? Not giving him warning about the spell before casting? Not including him in preparations? Trying to kill himself in the first place? Or perhaps just for not noticing what Draco hadn't wanted him to see? In which case, he was being stupid, and Draco was going to have to smack him.

Draco felt Harry move over him as Severus gave a small, noncommittal grunt. Before he could open his eyes and shove the other boy away, warm lips brushed against his own, just the briefest of touches. Once, twice, followed by a firmer press of lips, and Draco Malfoy found himself being kissed by the Savior of the wizarding world, whose lover just happened to be standing next to them.

His eyes had snapped open in shock at the first touch of their mouths, and now his hands joined the mix, one pushing at Harry's shoulder, while the other fisted in his shirt, unsure of whether he was pushing to other boy away or drawing him closer. Without any input from his brain, Draco found himself surrendering with a groan, opening his mouth under Harry's unexpected assault.

Part of him was aware that Severus was still standing there, and was absolutely mortified, but the larger part of him simply didn't care. _This _was what he had wanted, some acknowledgment that he was wanted, that he was desirable, that Harry loved him back, even if not as a true lover. Any type of love would be enough; Draco fought hard to convince himself.

Harry must've felt the struggle going on in his head, because he pulled back from the kiss a moment later, his eyes bright and his lips swollen from their kiss. Draco had no doubt he looked the same, and he felt his face heat up in embarrassment and shame. He hadn't meant to lose it like that, to respond back to the kiss, to give in so completely.

Sudden movement from his right made him cringe, flinching away from the expected blow. Instead, Severus just leaned over him and brushed dry lips over his forehead before trailing them down over his closed eyes and nose, across his cheeks, until they, too, pressed against his mouth, kissing him gently and coaxing his own lips to open. Unsure of what was happening, the entire situation surreal and completely impossible, Draco opened his mouth to the probing kiss, figuring that if he was dreaming, then he might as well enjoy it. And if this was real, well, he'd just have to deal with the fallout when it inevitable came around.

Severus kept the kiss gentle, almost chaste, the complete opposite of Harry's passionate kiss. Giving in, Draco reached up and wrapped his arms around the Potions Master's neck, leaving them to rest there while he enjoyed the languid kiss. When Severus finally pulled back, Draco's body had relaxed, his eyes half-lidded as he gazed up at them in wonder.

Two hands reached out and combed through his hair, stopping almost in tandem to scratch lightly behind his ears, making him melt, practically purring. He didn't know what he had done to deserve his greatest wish coming true, but he just hoped he didn't mess it up. And he had kissed Severus, too, an unexpected, but entirely welcome surprise.

"We love you, Draco. We do," Harry murmured, still scratching fingers lightly through Draco's hair, lightly untangling the knots from his earlier thrashing. "So please, don't do something like that again. Don't take everybody's pain into yourself. Don't use your body so recklessly, like something that can be thrown away. You're irreplaceable, Draco. You always have been."

Draco fought back the tears, keeping his eyes closed as he swallowed, afraid to see what was in Harry's eyes right at that moment. A deeper, smoother voice broke into his train of thoughts. "You're not alone, precious dragon," Severus murmured, his childhood nickname slipping off his tongue easily, with a familiarity that nearly broke Draco's heart. "We're here for you. We always have been. Even if we seemed wrapped up in each other most of the time," he offered, a smile in his voice.

"Perhaps we relied too heavily on you," Severus muttered out loud, as if he was thinking to himself. "You were always there for Harry, and for me, and we just took it for granted." Harry made a sound of agreement on his right, and before Draco realized what was happening, the other boy was under the covers with him, snuggling up against his side, his body warm and healthy and comforting.

Severus chuckled. "I see that you're both quite tired. I'll let you rest for a while until dinnertime. Perhaps Dobby will know what to fix for you." With that, he went to leave, but Draco reached out, snagging the sleeve of his robes. Severus turned back to him, and then answered the question he must've seen. "Do not worry yourself, please. Neither of us do anything we don't want to do. You know that," he chastised gently.

Nodding mildly, Draco watched as Severus turned and left, apparently satisfied. As soon as the door clicked behind him, Harry spoke up. "He's right, you know. We wouldn't have kissed you if we didn't want to," he murmured, his own voice slurred with sleep.

"But you apologized," Draco pointed out. "To Severus. You apologized. I fail to see how that makes what both of you did willing." He couldn't say it, couldn't force the word past the wedge lodged in his throat, suffocating him. Warm hands petted over his arms and sides, and Harry shifted, making himself more comfortable.

"I was apologizing because I was taking the first kiss," Harry grinned impishly, more awake now. "And because I couldn't wait any longer. Severus wanted to wait until you were healed, so that you were aware of what we were offering when we asked. But I thought kissing you would be quicker," he added.

Draco blinked, surprise. "How long?" he demanded, his voice harsher than he had intended. When Harry just stared at him in bewilderment, he clarified. "How long had you been considering me like that? Because, if you did it just recently, while I was sick, then I don't want any part of it." That wasn't really true, because he'd take what he could get, but he knew it would hurt much, much worse if he got a taste and then got discarded by the two wizards.

Harry shook his head emphatically. "I've wanted you since I woke up from that coma and realized what you'd done for me. You saved my life, when you had no reason to," Harry murmured, his voice filled with a type of innocent wonder. "No, you didn't," he stopped Draco from protesting with sharp words and a glare, and Draco's argument died in his throat. Staring blankly at some point on the far wall, Harry murmured dazedly, "I grew to love Severus, yes, but I knew that it was because of you that I was still alive. And when I realized what you were doing for me, when Severus finally helped me to put the pieces together, I finally understood that you would have died for me, if it would keep me alive."

"But, more importantly than knowing that you would die for me," Harry continued speaking, seeming unable to stop now that he had started, "was the fact that you fought it. You fought the curse constantly, gave me strength and health and magic, leaving hardly enough for yourself, and still you fought. You struggled to live, Draco, because you knew that dying for me wasn't what I wanted. You would fight not to leave me, because leaving me would have killed me, and you couldn't have born that, could you have?" he asked, his voice and eyes serious as he stared at Draco.

The blond sighed and shook his head, his hair scattering across their shared pillow. "You had lost all your friends," he spoke quietly, afraid to say such damning words any louder than a whisper. "I might have been a poor replacement, but I wanted to do my best by you. And doing my best meant not dying. Besides," he smiled at the other boy, "I'm a Malfoy. We're notoriously stubborn and conceited, you know. There was no way that curse could have overcome my ego."

Harry laughed, then, really laughed, and Draco smiled. Testing the waters, he pulled Harry closer with his right arm. The other boy came willingly, throwing one leg over his and pressing up against his body, so that they shared body heat in a long line down their bodies where they touched. Sighing, his warm breath ticked Draco's throat, and soon thereafter, both boys were fast asleep, unaware of the dark eyes keeping watch over them, satisfied at last. Finally, they were all where they were meant to be.

Glancing outside, Severus Snape grinned. With a quick wave of his wand, he sent the leaf piles scattering in every direction. When the boys woke up, they could go out and play again. Turning, Severus headed down the hallway, content to let the two boys sort themselves out for now. After all, he'd get his turn. He always did.


End file.
